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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Acting, the Root of All Drama
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Han Hyo-jin Teacher's words that the root of all drama is acting were not exaggerated in the slightest.
A musical actor has to infuse acting into their singing and their dancing.
Even just standing still on stage had to be an act.
"The evaluation format is just as I explained: pairs performing one scene. Since it's a 'competitive scene,' don't force rivals into sudden competition if they're supposed to be friendly, or push an absurd plot twist. Keep your own individuality alive—don't kill it. Okay?"
"Yes."
Han Hyo-jin Teacher nailed down the key points to watch out for right up to the end.
This was one of the great things about Cheongyeom Arts High.
You could feel every teacher pouring their heart into the subject they taught.
Watching them hold nothing back in advising students they might one day share a musical stage with, it was clear they all genuinely loved musicals and that's why they did this job.
"You probably know this already, but I'm not one of the judges today. Please come in."
As Han Hyo-jin spoke toward the back of the stage, three judges stepped up onto it.
"These are the teachers who'll be evaluating you in my place today. You all know who they are."
The judges for today were the three teachers in charge of the second-year musical majors.
They'd been introduced to the entire student body at the entrance ceremony in the grand theater, so the students recognized their faces.
Of course, some were active actors, so their faces were familiar even before enrolling at Cheongyeom Arts High.
"Hello, everyone. Nice to meet you like this."
One of the assisting judges, a man with half his hair turned white, stepped forward as the representative.
From his very first words, you could sense his courtesy and dignity. His name was Kim Geun-tae.
He was the eldest veteran actor among the musical department teachers.
Though retired now, he had a stellar reputation for teaching acting.
I vaguely remembered the unique depth he exuded when I took his class before my regression.
"I've heard the incoming first-years this time have the highest talent in history."
Pride lit up the kids' faces at Kim Geun-tae's words.
It wasn't an exaggeration.
In the near future, this very stage would produce actors who shone on Broadway.
Not just one, but several.
Before my regression, I hadn't been part of that historic talent pool, but in this second run, things would be different.
"I'm already excited to see these sprouts perform. I'll do my best to calm this excitement and give you a fair and just evaluation. So, please give it your all today."
Kim Geun-tae bowed his head and stepped back.
His courtesy toward the students was impeccable to the last.
The students applauded with flushed, excited faces.
"You've done the backstage wait during the last vocal test, right? Same as then. First three teams, head to backstage and get ready."
Han Hyo-jin took back the baton and immediately announced the start of the acting test.
The first three teams went backstage, and the judges took their seats to prepare.
Han Hyo-jin sat right in front of the stage alongside them.
She promptly distributed materials to the judges.
They listed the works, scenes, and lines each team would perform, in order.
"First team. Let's start right away."
At Han Hyo-jin's signal, the stage went dark.
***
'Kim Sun-woo really is Kim Sun-woo, huh.'
The acting test was going smoothly, and the eighth team was now on stage.
There were 15 teams total today, so they'd just passed the halfway mark.
The standout among them was Kim Sun-woo's team, by far.
The issue was that Kim Sun-woo had gone first.
Seven stages had passed since, but none had left much impact.
As the so-so performances dragged on, Han Hyo-jin was starting to feel bored.
Of course, they were Cheongyeom Arts High students, so none were disastrously bad.
But that was it.
Maybe because they followed Kim Sun-woo, to Han Hyo-jin, they just seemed decent at best—no real spark.
"Good work."
As the eighth team finished, Han Hyo-jin smiled faintly.
"Next team. Just enter within five minutes."
There was a five-minute break between stages.
Han Hyo-jin called out loud enough to reach backstage, then sank into her seat.
The next team just needed to start within five minutes, so she leisurely flipped through the materials.
'Next is...'
Han Hyo-jin's eyes sparkled as she turned to the ninth team's page.
Two names caught her eye.
'Lee Do-hyun. This time, our Moon Woo-hyuk won't go down easy either.'
It was finally Do-hyun and Moon Woo-hyuk's turn.
As Moon Woo-hyuk's one-on-one guidance teacher, having watched and directed his practice, Han Hyo-jin was more excited for this stage than any other.
She'd seen firsthand how much he'd practiced and how polished his acting was.
And his opponent was Lee Do-hyun, who'd turned down her own invitation.
On top of that?
She'd heard they hadn't rehearsed together even once before the test.
It seemed like Woo-hyuk had proposed it in a fit of youthful bravado, but Do-hyun accepting proved he was just a seventeen-year-old kid too.
Lee Do-hyun had taken first in the last vocal test.
This time, she hoped Moon Woo-hyuk could beat him.
"Is that the one? Moon Actor's son."
One of the judges whispered to Han Hyo-jin.
Whenever Moon Woo-hyuk appeared, Moon Kang-hyun's name inevitably came up.
Han Hyo-jin nodded once with a cynical smile.
"That doesn't seem important right now, Teacher."
Right beside her, Kim Geun-tae spoke without taking his eyes off the script Do-hyun and Woo-hyuk would perform.
The judge who'd asked flushed with embarrassment and quickly looked back at his script.
'Moon Kang-hyun's tag. It'd be nice if he could prove he can shake it off.'
Han Hyo-jin gave a subtle smile as she gazed at the empty stage.
***
I straightened my uniform one more time backstage.
Everyone had to wear their school uniforms for today's acting test.
Costumes were hugely important on stage, after all.
With everyone doing different scenes, prep would vary wildly.
A single costume could make or break audience immersion—not to mention boosting the actors' focus.
But costumes could also highlight personal circumstances.
The musical trio and such could afford custom outfits for every test.
Guys like me? We'd be lucky to have one or two.
Cheongyeom Arts High demanded pro-level professionalism from students while remembering they were still kids.
In moments like this, you could see why it was a top school.
I glanced at Moon Woo-hyuk. He was waiting calmly.
He'd looked pissed just a bit ago.
Talent was talent—he already had the eyes of today's role, 'Woo-dam.'
Time to run lines before we went on.
"You can do this, right, Moon Woo-hyuk?"
He glanced my way once, then ignored me flat-out.
I'd gone along with everything he wanted—when would he cool off?
"It's an ad-libbed chemistry on the spot."
I turned from Woo-hyuk to the mirror and spoke.
"You never get to try this outside school. Right?"
A stage with zero rehearsals.
In the pro world, it'd be an insult to audiences paying for tickets.
Utter madness.
Only possible because it was a student test.
Sure, actors sometimes goofed off like that in joint rehearsals, but that was practice.
What happens when two immersed actors hit the stage without syncing once?
It could birth something beyond the script—or total disaster.
"Sounds fun, doesn't it?"
I meant it.
My heart was pounding so hard I felt silly for it.
I was thrilled, itching to get on stage.
I wanted to feel right away how Moon Kang-hyun's hotshot son would come at me.
Still, Woo-hyuk kept up the total ignore.
Fine, I won't talk to you anymore.
I closed my eyes.
Time to immerse in the role.
***
Everyone in the theater held their breath, watching the two on stage with grim expressions.
The tension filling the small theater was unbelievable for just the ninth stage.
"Lights out."
As Han Hyo-jin's low voice called, the lights went dark. I let out a quiet breath and closed my eyes.
"Lights up."
Spotlights hit the two of us.
When I opened my eyes, they burned with the desperate, heartfelt plea of 'Jun-sik,' the father fighting to save his son Woo-dam.
The scene they were performing: When Woo-dam insists on holding his brother's funeral, father Jun-sik tries to make him see the importance of the law, desperate that his last remaining son not get hurt.
"You must have heard. What happens if you hold a funeral for a traitor to the state. No matter who it is. There are no exceptions—you need to know that clearly."
Jun-sik's line, usually played with furious rage or threats.
But I delivered it in a cold, detached tone.
No overdone projection or gestures—just my eyes carrying all of Jun-sik's desperation.
It drew the audience right into the father's heart.
'Well, well.'
Han Hyo-jin was already stunned after just that one line.
Next came Moon Woo-hyuk's line, capturing brother Woo-dam's resolve to hold the funeral.
He couldn't afford to falter against Do-hyun's unexpected tone.
"I already know."
A voice laced with sorrow and tragedy.
Contrary to Han Hyo-jin's worry, the tone and emotion were perfect.
It was acting so spot-on, like he'd distilled the essence of countless Woo-dams.
Far from original, but textbook wasn't wrong.
Sometimes, that flawless orthodoxy birthed art so beautiful you forgot about originality.
Moon Woo-hyuk's was pure textbook.
You could tell how much he'd practiced without him saying a word.
"If you think it'll be different just because he's my son, you're gravely mistaken. You think a judge's son can do whatever and escape the law's judgment?"
In contrast, I took the opposite path.
I controlled Jun-sik's emotions meticulously, as if rationally suppressing them.
'Usually, they'd laugh bitterly there or ramp up the intensity. Lee Do-hyun's interpreting Jun-sik as cynical and calculating. No inconsistencies.'
It diverged from how other actors had played Jun-sik in the original.
Unexpected offbeat timing paired with gestures that all fit his unique character.
He breathed life into the script's Jun-sik with his own color and vibe.
Even knowing the original, you got pulled into Do-hyun's version.
'Fun. Our Woo-hyuk won't have it easy this time either.'
Orthodoxy versus variation.
The fierce acting battle between their opposing styles began.
Han Hyo-jin, chin in hand, felt one corner of her mouth curl up in growing intrigue.
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